


The Light On The Floor

by Sinister_Kid



Series: Into The Light (Cole/Cullen Ficlets) [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Human Cole (Dragon Age), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Rare Pairings, rare pair hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinister_Kid/pseuds/Sinister_Kid
Summary: When Cole touches the light, a shadow appears. It didn't do that before. Not when he was a spirit.But now he's real, and Cullen doesn't overlook him anymore.Heseeshim.
Relationships: Cole/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Into The Light (Cole/Cullen Ficlets) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970680
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	The Light On The Floor

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompted one shot titled Shadow in the Corner. Only instead of the Inquisitor, Cullen harbors romantic feelings for Cole.
> 
> [The original prompt fill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16245170)

Cole stood outside the door to Cullen’s office, shifting about in the sunlight, first lifting one foot, and then the other, watching the dark shape that resembled him change with every step, copying his movement. He’d meant to knock on the door, but got distracted by his bothersome shadow for a moment. He’d never had one before, not as a spirit. Others had them. All things had them, every time the sun poked out from behind the clouds. 

Dark shapes always trying to copy things, like an envy demon did. But these ones only wanted to play, not hurt anyone. It was fun to do what others did, so the shadows frolicked along, copying people and laughing as they danced. But this one that attached itself to Cole and wouldn’t go away was getting rather annoying. “Go away! Shoo!” he said, shaking his leg, but the shadow only mimicked that too. “Stop doing what I’m doing and go away!”

Of course, he knew his words were useless. He was human now, which meant that just like with everything else in the waking world, he would have a shadow now too. For the rest of his life, whenever the sun woke up, a shape of Cole would come out to play. He was resigned to a fate of ignoring it when it bothered him, and just pretending it wasn’t there. It was so strange. Cole used to be the shadow that people wanted to ‘go away’. But now he was real.

Across the battlements, a pair of soldiers gawked at him. That was another thing that refused to go away, like his shadow. He couldn’t hide from anyone anymore. Only when he stood behind things would people not see him, and only if those things were solid enough things to conceal him. Varric had showed him how to sneak around without being seen by hiding behind things, instead of making people forget, because he couldn’t do that anymore either. 

But it wasn’t the same. People stared now, when they didn’t before. They were always staring at him, and what made it worse was that he never knew why. He couldn’t hear them anymore. Only when they moved their bodies or their mouths talked. That was it. There were some feelings still, but they were so faint, and the world was so quiet now without them crashing down on Cole’s senses like a tidal wave, or thunder clapping in the distance.

Instead of hearing waterfalls of emotions pattering on his shoulders like raindrops, he only heard the wind, making dry leaves skitter across the stone. He looked away from the soldiers gawking at him, then after shooting his shadow another glare in warning, he turned back to the Commander’s door. He raised his hand to slowly and gently turn the handle. It was unlocked, but it always was. Cullen never locked it because people needed to walk through it.

Cullen didn’t always _want_ them to though, so Cole knew he couldn’t just open it, even if it wasn’t locked. The Herald had said to knock if he simply wasn’t sure if someone wanted him in a room, but that wasn’t very good advice, in Cole’s opinion. Not when it came to Cullen. Because Cullen would always say ‘enter’ no matter who it was and let them in, but he never _wanted_ Cole in his office. Thus the reason Cole was standing outside of it now, instead of entering.

He couldn’t just slip in and out unnoticed anymore. Not like he used to as a spirit. Before, he could watch from the shadows like a shadow himself and Cullen would overlook him. He could be present without actually being _seen_. It was frustrating when he _wanted_ to be seen and Cullen continued to ignore him, but it was better than being gone completely. Because sometimes Cullen _needed_ him to be there, even if he didn’t want him to be. So he wouldn’t be alone.

But Cole couldn’t hide from him now. There was no way he could. The moment he opened that door, the Commander would _see_ him, and wouldn’t look away from him in dismissal. He wouldn’t want Cole there, and probably bark at him to get out, because Cullen didn’t like him. So as he raised his hand to the door, the struggle was not with opening it and stepping into the room, but figuring out how to make himself _welcome_ to enter by the man waiting inside. 

He would ask Solas what to do, but Solas didn’t like talking to him much anymore, now that he wasn’t a spirit. Before, he was happy to listen to Cole talk about others’ thoughts, happy to try to pick the sentences apart and help him figure out what all the thoughts meant and how to help people. But now that he was becoming more and more human, Solas no longer wanted to listen. “Trouble someone else with this, please, Cole,” he would say. “Perhaps Varric instead.”

Then he would go back to his drawings on the table, the paper sliding across the surface with a ‘shwick’ the only sound to be heard. No thoughts. Only silence, and papers. Rustling like the dry leaves on the stone. He didn’t know how to fix it. The more human he became, the quieter people got. Some were completely silent. Like Solas. Cullen was another that had fallen silent around Cole. No sounds except for armor clinking and words.

Cole shivered atop the battlements, the wind poking at his skin like little needles, on his fingers and nose the hardest, making it bright red from the cold. Without the thoughts of others clouding his mind he was reeling in his own, worrying his bottom lip over the door to Cullen’s office, when none other than the Herald of Andraste appeared at his side. “Hello, Cole,” she greeted, and he turned to face her. He didn’t hear her either. “What are you doing outside Cullen’s office?”

The Herald of Andraste with her bright green eyes and a mouth that was not in a frown but not smiling either. Curious, but kind. She liked Cole. Had never cared if he was a spirit or not, only that he wanted to help. Liked how he helped people and always encouraged it. Even if she didn’t understand it. She was compassion in a person, Solas had said once. Always wanting to help others too. Even at the cost of her own happiness. Selfless.

“I…” Cole shifted in place. “I-I don’t know if I can go in.”

The corner of the Herald’s mouth turned upward in a smirk. “Well I suppose there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” she said.

Then she opened the door and barged right in without knocking. But… _she_ never needed to. Cullen never turned her away and was always happy to see her. Even when he was deeply hurt by something, so much so that the sound of it made Cole’s ears ring, it was never because of her. “Ah! Inquisitor,” Cullen greeted brightly, popping his head up from where he’d been looking at something on his desk. “And…Cole?”

“Yes,” the Herald nodded, smiling still. “Apparently he’s been standing outside your office wondering if he was allowed to come in.”

“Ah, I see.”

Cole hovered in the open doorway, wringing his hands and shifting from foot to foot again, but this time in angst. Palms sweating. Stomach in knots. A stinging in his throat and eyes. He couldn’t hear Cullen anymore unless he talked, and he didn’t always say whatever he was thinking, so Cole couldn’t _really_ know if he was truly allowed to come in or not. Just because the door was open and Cullen hadn’t said ‘get out’, didn’t mean he wanted him there.

The Commander’s face didn’t smile. It was scrunched up in a sort of frown, but Cole couldn’t tell what kind of frown it was, or what that frown was saying. It was just a line. A soundless line of nothingness that Cole couldn’t read at all. “You can come in, Cole,” Cullen finally said with a slight nod and Cole exhaled in relief. He closed the door to keep the wind out and stepped into the room. But did Cullen truly want him in the room?

Turning his golden eyes away from Cole, Cullen asked the Herald, “Was there something you wished to discuss?”

“Ah, no, I’m just passing through, actually,” she said. “I’m on my way to see Blackwall.”

“Ah, alright then,” Cullen nodded, and this time he smiled. “Have a good day, Inquisitor.”

“You too. And don’t work too hard.”

Cullen let out a snort. “I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t travel so much.”

Cole’s lip twitched.

But she _had_ to travel. Like a carriage, the Inquisition was always moving to new places, and the Herald was the horse that pulled them along. Cullen was the wheel. Squeaking, but trying. Turning as best it knew how. _What anchors the wheel to the carriage?_ Cole wondered.

“Fair enough,” the Herald laughed, at Cullen’s comment.

She left the confines of the office through another door that led to a different part of the battlements. Cole knew she would walk across the ramparts to find the set of steps that ended right at the stables where Blackwall was. She always did. Cole swallowed. His throat dry with her gone, alone with Cullen. When he peered up at the Commander from under the brim of his hat, Cullen still hadn’t looked away yet, still remembering he was there.

_He hasn’t forgotten me yet._

_What do I do now?_

It was both good, and bad. Bad that he too stared at Cole like all the others did, but also good because it meant he could _see_ Cole. He could remember times when he wished Cullen could see him but refused to. Regardless of what Cole said or did, Cullen still never noticed him, and carried on with his duties like the spirit wasn’t in the room. But Cullen would never forget him now that he was human. He would never again look away with indifference.

The back of Cole’s neck tingled, and his hair raised at the thought.

“So, Lady Trevelyan tells me that you can’t just disappear whenever you want anymore,” Cullen remarked, looking away to pick up something from his desk. A piece of paper. But still not forgetting him, as he’d added, “Said you’re becoming more and more human every day.”

“Yes,” Cole breathed, edging closer to the desk.

“And is that why you were hovering outside my office?” Cullen asked. “Because you knew that I’d notice you slipping in here?”

Cole chewed on his lip. “…You _see_ me now.”

Cullen’s face little up in a chuckle, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at Cole. “You know I find it hard to believe you’re actually human when you’re still just as odd as you’ve always been,” he said. Cole shifted back and forth in nervousness. Cullen still didn’t believe he was really real? Was that why he still didn’t like him? Even though Cole couldn’t hear any of his pain? That had always made Cullen uncomfortable.

“I’m really real,” Cole assured. “I promise. I’m not the not-real you thought I was before.”

Cullen snorted. “I’m sure you are,” he groused.

But he _was_. He breathed. He ate. He slept. He dreamed. He hurt, and he bled. He had a shadow that followed him everywhere too. He had no fear of mages taking his thoughts and twisting them into madness, because he was _not_ a spirit, and since he wasn’t a mage either, no demon could ever change him. Because he _was_ human. Because he was _very_ real. Cole fidgeted for a moment, glancing at the beam of light on the floor.

It shown from the window in Cullen’s office. He’d opened it to let the light in and the floor welcomed it with warmth. Cole stepped over to it and stuck his foot in the warmth, watching some of the light disappear as his shadow returned. Several times he repeated this, stepping on the light on the floor to make it disappear. “What are you doing?” Cullen asked him.

“When I touch the light, it disappears,” Cole answered. “It didn’t do that before.”

“It’s called a shadow,” Cullen said, helpfully, and Cole smiled.

“I know,” he said, beaming. “I’ve never had one. It’s aggravating. It’s always chasing me around, and copying me, but it doesn’t hurt me, so I don’t mind.”

“You never had a shadow as a spirit?” Cullen asked, and Cole shook his head. “I suppose that makes sense. Always having one foot in the Fade. You appeared human, but you could never truly be so. Others might see you, of course, but you were never truly there.”

“But I am now,” he told the Commander. “Because I’m real.”

Cullen chuckled at him. “I suppose you are, yes.”

When Cole looked up, the corner of Cullen’s mouth was slightly turned up in a smirk just like the Herald’s always was. Cole flooded with relief when he saw a familiar expression that he recognized. Cullen found him amusing. He was no longer afraid. Cole would never know without seeing that smile, but he was assured that even if Cullen didn’t really like him much, he didn’t hate him anymore either. Showing Cullen his shadow had worked. He saw that Cole was real. There was nothing to fear.

But he’d stopped talking, so Cole couldn’t be sure of what he was thinking.

“I can’t hear you anymore,” he admitted to Cullen, moving away from the light and toward the desk. “You were always so loud. Sometimes the loudest. Like rain on the shoulders. But now you’re so quiet. Like dry leaves on the stone.”

“Uhm,” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, “What does that mean?”

At Cullen’s obvious confusion, Cole’s own shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. 

Now that he was human, he’d begun to notice how his words didn’t make sense at times. It never mattered before, but it did now. Now that he needed words to understand people, it meant talking in words _they_ understood. But they didn’t always. Because they couldn’t hear his thoughts either, they didn’t always know what the words meant. And getting them to come out? Worse. They were always so jumbled in his head. 

“I used to listen, when you hurt. I could hear it. But now I don’t.”

Cullen bristled, frowning. “Are you meaning that you can no longer peer inside a person’s mind?” Ah, _looking inside_. Seeing someone’s memories. No, Cole couldn’t do that either. He nodded his head. “I suppose I should be relieved to hear that,” Cullen said. “I don’t take kindly to people knowing so much about me without me telling them. I suppose that’s why you avoided me. You knew I didn’t appreciate it.” Cole shrugged a shoulder. Yes, and no.

He didn’t _avoid_ Cullen, per say. It just couldn’t be helped that the Commander should overlook him. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, before, when I could hear it. It was just so loud, and you hurt so much and-and–”

“And you felt compelled to try to help, yes. The Herald told me this.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Err,” Cullen shifted, “Uhm, it’s…not that I don’t like you, Cole. Truly. It just made me uncomfortable. But if I thought you were any danger to anyone, I never would have allowed the Inquisitor to keep you here in the first place.”

“Letting someone stay and _wanting_ them here are different things,” Cole pointed out. “They’re not the same.”

Cullen sighed. “No, I suppose they’re not. Is there anyway you can forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about to need to forgive,” Cole said. “You didn’t hurt me. Only I can’t figure out how to change things. To help.”

“Help what, exactly?”

“You? I can’t feel what you’re thinking anymore. I don’t hear anything when you don’t speak, so I don’t know what’s wrong or how to fix what’s broken.” He wrung his hands again. “Everyone else is so easy to help. They want different things. Varric has been showing me ways to help others even though they don’t forget me anymore, but you…I-I can’t. Not anymore. Not…not like I did before, when I was the other me.”

“Dare I even ask,” Cullen mumbled. “No, you know what? I’d rather _not_ know. Look, Cole, if I may make a suggestion.”

“Yes?” Cole brightened, stepping closer to gaze up at Cullen and watch his face carefully. Cullen backed up a step, like he was too close. But Cole needed to see his face, so he stepped closer again. “I’d like to know how to help.”

Cullen sucked in a breath. “What I was going to suggest,” he started, slowly lifting his hands to rest them on Cole’s shoulders and gently push him back. Then he kept his hands there, forcing Cole to remain at a more reasonable distance from him. “Was that perhaps you should worry less about what _others_ are thinking and feeling, and maybe worry about yourself for a change. Your own thoughts and feelings. You’re human now. You have them too.”

“My…my own thoughts…”

“Yes. Before, you were a spirit of compassion that showed others needed sympathy, but now…you’re a _man_ capable of _empathy_. Perhaps your time would be better spent figuring that out.”

“What’s ‘empathy’?” Cole asked.

“It’s when you can understand the feelings of others because you yourself have those same feelings, Cole.”

“...My feelings?”

“Yes.”

“I…I feel _cold_.”

Cullen chuckled. “You should dress better then,” he said. “You’ll feel warmer.”

“Your hands are warm,” Cole said.

Cullen’s eyes widened a touch and he snatched both hands away from Cole as if he’d been burned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Right–erm, yes, well uh…” He looked anywhere but at Cole for a moment. “Yes. Your feelings. Concentrate on figuring that out,” he repeated, reaching to shuffle the papers on his desk. “I’m sure you have a lot to learn about being human and there are plenty of others here to teach you. I’m sure someone like the Herald would be more than willing.”

Cole watched Cullen fidget for a moment, shifting around anxiously. He’d seen him do that before, sometimes when the Herald was near. As a spirit, he’d watch Cullen’s pain start to fade when close to her, the noise quieting to a murmur around them, but he’d shift from foot to foot, rub his neck, and lose his words. Was…that why he was so quiet now? Because he _didn’t_ actually feel any pain at all? The way he shifted about.

_Face red, like the cold, but warm instead._

_Blushing..._

“What are you thinking?” Cole asked him, because he desperately wanted to know. “I know you said not to worry about it, but…I _worry_. That’s also how I feel. I worry. A-about you.”

“Don’t–don’t worry about me so much. I’m fine, Cole, and there’s nothing I need your help with.”

“You’re not lying, are you?” Cole asked, furrowing his brow and studying Cullen carefully. “Sometimes when you say ‘I’m fine’ you’re _not_ fine at all. That’s usually when you’re hurting the most and it’s the loudest.”

Cullen sucked in a deep breath through his nose and let it out in a sigh.

“I’m not lying, Cole. I’m well and truly fine this time. You can find someone else to pester.”

Cole looked at the floor. “…Alright.”

When he left the room, he glanced back at Cullen one last time before closing the door.

* * *

Cullen slapped the papers down on his desk after Cole left, shaking his head at himself. 

_Maker’s breath_ , he thought.

Cole was even more confusing as a human than he ever was as a spirit. But he was truly human though. Cullen glanced at the light on the floor, pouring in from the window. Remembering the way Cole had stuck his foot in front of it. Said he’d never had a shadow as a spirit because he wasn’t completely there physically, but indeed he had one now. It had made him think of Mia shining a candle on the wall and moving her hands in front of it to make shadow puppets.

But such thoughts made him feel terribly guilty just then, because Cole was so much like the child he’d been, watching Mia make a shadow dog with her hand, and for a moment, with Cole pressing so closely against him and mere inches from his face, his thoughts had been anything but pure and innocent. _Maker take me,_ he inwardly groaned, _but I’d thought of kissing him just now._ He was ever so grateful Cole _couldn’t_ hear his thoughts anymore.

He didn’t know where the thought came from either. It just popped in his head. Cole just looked so innocent and sweet with those big blue eyes peering up at him from under that hat. And when he’d complained of being cold, Cullen could only think of wrapping his arms around him. Only to warm him of course, but then…then that errant thought of kissing him too had surfaced. It was shameful. To think of Cole in such a way. The young man was a spirit before now.

He was only _just_ learning how to be normal, only _just_ learning how to interact with people like an ordinary person, and Cullen felt a guilt like he’d never experienced when having such mature thoughts of him. Even more guilty than harboring feelings for a mage back when he was a Templar. At least the mage was a mature adult that could consent to such activities would that the Chantry allowed them to occur. But Cole was…well, more or less a _child_.

For all intents and purposes at least. But a fledgling, in a way. Who’s understanding of the world had been very hyper-focused on feeling a person’s pain and trying to erase it. He knew so little of anything else. Cullen shouldn’t poison his mind with any sexual deviance. He’d no doubt that others like the Iron Bull would probably try, but at least they wouldn’t take advantage of the boy. Only fill his head with filthy vocabulary. But not act on any sexual urges.

Cullen on the other hand…

But what if Cole ever desired it?

What if he ever reached a sense of maturity and self that he was ever capable of it?

And what if he could ever feel that way about another man?

Cullen sighed again, glancing at the light on the floor one last time, before getting back to work, reading over reports.

 _I worry about you_ , he’d said.

Maker, but it felt good knowing that _someone_ did.

Cullen’s little shadow, finally stepping into the light.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel no shame.
> 
> Cole and Cullen's theme song: ["Fix You" by Coldplay](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Oncu0bgdcXU&feature=share)


End file.
